Frozen In Time
by JaxxTheBlade
Summary: They'd only meant to spend a small amount of time on the planet, to learn. For science. But things went wrong. The Enterprise was attacked, communications lost, and the two who'd beamed down were lost to the frozen wasteland... [Spock/Kirk]


Cold. Oh, so cold.

Together they huddled, trying vainly to grasp the last scraps of warmth from each other's shivering bodies. One figure, a man with pointed ears and dark, uplifted eyebrows along with dark hair cut very precisely, barely had his eyes open. The other, a blonde man with eyes so blue that even the stars couldn't match them, had his arms around the other, the Vulcan. Really, they had no other alternative.

And it wasn't like this wasn't a normal occurrence in the first place, only this time it was life threatening

Originally, the plan had been simple: beam down to the planet, gather the readings needed for the scientists aboard the ship, then get out. However, things had gotten out of control. The _Enterprise _had been attacked. They lost communication with the ship. For all they knew, they were now stranded on a cold, deserted planet with no one but each other.

So they burrowed; they dug a hole in the snow, knowing that it would insulate heat better. They huddled together with their cold-weather gear and a thin blanket thrown on top in an attempt to help block out the cold. The tiny hole they took shelter in wasn't quite enough. Still, the planet was freezing cold and the icy tempest above offered no solace. Except for the small opening at the top of their crude attempt at shelter, no light reached them. Again, together they sat huddled in the semi-darkness.

"C-captain," the Vulcan rasped, "There is a small chance that we will... survive."

"Shut up, Spock," replied the blonde, "You're not making this any better." His arms tightened protectively around Spock, however. "We're not going to die here."

"It is illogical to think so," replied the dark-haired Vulcan.

"Don't say that, Spock. That's an order," growled Kirk in reply.

The Vulcan quieted, then allowed for his eyes to close slowly. Kirk sighed as he did so; Spock, being from the planet Vulcan, wasn't built for this kind of weather. Inwardly, he worried for him. Spock wasn't faring well, in case it wasn't noticeable by the unusual paleness of the skin and the tired demeanor of the Vulcan. Spock wouldn't be able to take it much longer - soon, he would succumb to the cold.

And Kirk might as well follow suit.

Again, he pulled out the communicator, made an attempt to contact the Enterprise.

Nothing.

Fear was trying to rise up in his throat, but he tried to swallow it back down. This is, after all, what he'd signed up for. Danger, thrill, experience. This is what he was getting when he joined Starfleet. Still though, he was responsible for the four hundred and thirty lives aboard his ship, and he had gone off on some stupid mission, simply because he needed to get out. He didn't even bother to bring security. God, stupid, stupid!

He must have grown tense, because Spock shifted in his arms and murmured, "Not... your fault." Of course. Vulcans were touch-telepaths. While it was difficult to do so through all of the layers of clothing, the two were especially close. "Do not feel guilt, _t'hy'la_," said the Vulcan in an attempt to reassure him.

Kirk pressed a hopefully warm kiss into the other's dark hair, closing his eyes before resting his chin on top of his head. At this point, he couldn't even feel the cold anymore, only the numbness and the pressure of Spock in his arms. So tired, he just wanted to sleep...

"Do not sleep," came a distant voice.

His eyes flew open. "What?" He tried to say, but instead the blonde's voice came out as a raspy gasp. It was pitch black, and so cold that he couldn't even move or feel his lips. "Spock?" he tried, but Kirk very badly mangled the other's name.

"Jim," came the voice, "...not much time." He felt something against his face. A hand. "_T'hy'la,_" breathed Spock. So they were dying. All Kirk wanted was to sleep, but he kept his eyes open despite the darkness. For Spock.

So, so tired. Did he feel the same?

Kirk thought he felt something brush against his lips, a tiny tickle of warmth from what reminded of Spock, but he couldn't be sure. He wasn't sure of anything anymore; everything was a foggy mess of sleepiness. He felt drugged. Just... sleep...

No. If he was going to die, here, a frozen popsicle in a frozen wasteland, he would spend his last moments with the one he loved most.

"Spock," he tried to say again, but his lips wouldn't move. Again, the freezing hand gently brushed his face.

"Jim," croaked the soft voice, as if acknowledging his attempt at the name.

Somewhere and somehow, amidst the vain attempts of trying to scrape out the last remaining warmth, and being enveloped in the embrace of his _t'hy'la_, darkness took over and he fell into the softness of it.

Asleep.

* * *

**AN: **I hope that was an... well, interesting read. Of course, I can't resist my favorite ship. I've been really, really busy with school and just haven't quite had the time to elaborate with _The Stranger _yet. Don't worry, I'm still working on it if anyone is still reading that.  
So instead I wrote a little thing to keep both you guys and myself entertained.


End file.
